Last Updated on September 30, 2020 by rob
15 years after the expiration of South Korea’s Statute of Limitations, after which a criminal can no longer be legally charged with his crime, the handsomely boyish Lee Du-seok publishes his autobiography in which he confesses to the murder of 10 teenage girls in such detail his guilt appears unarguable. Watching with impotent rage is Detective Choi (Jeong Jae-yeong), the cop who once nearly caught the killer, plus assorted parents of the murdered children who together hatch an intricate plan to abduct Lee Du-seok from under the nose of his bodyguards and exact gruesome revenge.
In fact the above synopsis doesn’t even cover the first act and what subsequently transpires after Du-seok challenges Detective Choi to a live television debate features some gobsmacking plot twists that upend everything we’ve been led to believe. This South Korean genre smash has more twists than the proverbial twisty thing. And if that’s all this had going for it Confession of Murder would be easy to dismiss as just business as usual. You know, flashy and gimmicky but otherwise unremarkable. But the film infuses its revenge plot with a powerful emotional undercurrent, some truly jaw-dropping action scenes (especially a dazzlingly choreographed cat and mouse game between Lee Du-seok and his abductors on the bonnet of Detective Choi’s car as it barrels down a motorway at 70mph!) and such a playful sensibility with the material it’s hard to resist.
Each of the parents, led by Kim Young-ae’s scarily intense Mother, gets their moment to shine and Byeong-gil’s script is especially clever in the way it only slowly parcels out the links between Detective, vengeful parents and victims, deepening the web of connections between all the characters but only revealing the full picture right at the end. It’s an indication of the strength of this hugely entertaining pic that key scenes carry even more power once one reflects back on them. For example, when the bereaved parents kidnap Lee Du-seok, Detective Choi quickly acts to rescue him from their clutches, a move that seems downright baffling given his hatred of a killer he not only failed to catch 15 years earlier, but who left him with an ugly knife scar down his face for his trouble.
You’d think Choi would want this scumbag dead just like they do. But by the time the full picture is revealed you realise just why Du-seok had to be rescued and it’s not at all what you might at first suppose. There’s no Grand Statement in Confession of Murder but the thrillingly visceral action sequences and insane plotting (the killer is one nasty, sneering piece of work with a personal connection to the tormented Detective Choi concealed until late in the game) are matched by a depth of emotion from the characters that pulls you in really deep. The final scene in which a certain character (no clues!) is released from prison to be warmly welcomed by what seems like virtually the entire cast embodies the power of this movie; it’s depiction of people shattered by evil yet finding in each other the strength to fight back and win through. Great stuff.
